The Lies You Told
by LovelyUnderland
Summary: Sequel to "I Am Not My Father". Now that she is out of the games, Katniss finds out more about her so called "father". Discovering the truth, she crosses the line yet again landing herself in the arena. But, this time, she has Peeta and. . . .a baby? Rated M. Katniss/Peeta Canon Slight AU Follows MJ
1. Chapter One: Darius

**Darius  
><strong>120613  
><em>LovelyUnderland<em>

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><p><strong>(KPOV)<strong>

The cold wind whips at my skin like shards of glass as I walk through the woods. Today is the beginning of the Victory Tour and, at noon, the reporters will arrive with their stupid cameras and bright lights. They will ask me all about how my life has been after the Games and, like every other time, I will put on that fake smile, tell them how wonderful it is, and how gracious the Capitol has been to me. I won't tell them how I would rather forget all about the Games. Once again, I will lie.

In all honesty, for a victor, the Games never end. Even after the Arena, flashbacks and nightmares haunt me. Every night I wake up to a blood-curdling scream only to realize that it's mine. Prim and Mrs Everdeen try their best to calm me down and comfort me, but it rarely helps. They don't understand what it's like to watch someone die or to be the reason. They aren't who I need to feel safe again. They aren't Peeta.

After Peeta left the station, he went to settle into his new house. For weeks we didn't speak to each other. As much as I longed for his warm embrace and soothing voice that would tell me everything was okay, I couldn't swallow my pride. I was still irritated with him for not being able to understand that I put on the act to save us both - to keep us alive.

It was only when I realized that he wasn't going to cave in, that I spoke. And that night ended in the most awkward way I could've ever imagined. So, again, we are back to not acknowledging eachother's existence.

Gale hasn't been much help with the situation. He was furious with me when I told him that I had apologized to Peeta. In his mind, Gale believes that Peeta is no good for me. Though I explained to Gale that it was all an act, he's admitted to being hurt by it. Still, he understood my reasons.

We have become closer than ever because of all the days we've gone out into the woods to hunt. Although, now that he's working in the mines we only have Sundays to ourselves. Gale is no Peeta, but he is my best friend and I love every moment of our time together. I figure that's why people are questioning our friendship. Many believe that there is more going on, but I've shot down any suggestion by saying that he is merely a distant cousin. That much was believable because we look so much alike and because of father's sister. In the Capitol she is known as being _a woman of the night._

The thought of Gale and I having any type off special relationship stirs guilt inside of me. I know that he feels something for me, he's let me know on more than one occasion, but I can't allow myself to ponder the thought. It just feels so wrong to me.

Once I've gathered our game from the traps, I head over to the Hob. The place is like the black market of District 12, always packed. Ripper's stall is my first stop. Mrs. Everdeen is already low on spirits and Haymitch. . . well, he needs to have a _constant_ stock.

Cray, the head Peacekeper, shoots me a disapproving look when he sees the amount of bottles in my game bag. Without a thought I flick the beck of my hand under my chin at him. When the realization of what I have just done sets in, I expect to be punished somehow. Perhaps beaten or whipped. However, I'm shocked when Cray roars with laughter.

"Girl, where'd you ever learn such profanity?" he chuckles.

Snapping out of my confusion I snort, "If you've seen my father when he's mad then you would know."

"Anyway, what are you doing with that stuff? It's way too strong for a pretty thing like you," he says, flipping my braid from my shoulder.

I shudder at the contact. I'm not used to being touched and Cray is known for his _ways_ with women. It sickens me. He's almost as bad a drinker as Haymitch is, and the stench of his breath is overkill.

"Mrs. Everdeen needs it for healing," I say in a rush before walking away.

I've seen girls lined up at his back door. Young girls my age. . .doing what they can to earn money for their family. I could've been one of them had I not been born into the Capitol. The thought alone sends chills up my spine that I quickly shake off. I was lucky - or was I? I'm not really sure what luck is anymore.

I go from stall to stall, selling game, talking to the owners, before I stop at Greasy Sae's. Sae and I have become close over the past months. When Gale first brought me to the Hob, Sae told him to take me away. She believed I would report her. It didn't take long for her to see that I was not like my father. As soon as she did, she apologized and granted me her approval.

Now, I stop by her stall everyday to have whatever soup she's cooked up. Today, it's some type of bean and gourd soup, but it looks more like some science experiment gone bad, which is great compared to the usual vomit replicas she has. When she hands me a bowl, I sign my life away and taste it. It's actually good. I look up to see Sae's wide smile.

My body stills when a long arm reaches around me and takes my bowl. The white and silver cloth that covers the arm tells me that it's a Peacekeeper. I can feel their warm breath on the back of my neck and I instantly pray that it's not old Cray.

"Aren't you supposed to be on the train?"

The low voice sends my mind into a whirl spin. I turn on my heel and come face to face with none other than Roal.

"Roal?" I ask. The crack in my voice ruins my feigned causality.

"Actually, Ms. Snow," he says, and holds out a hand, "My name is Darius."

As much as I want to question him, the fearful look in his eyes tells me to keep my mouth shut, for once. Roal– _Darius_ looks much more muscular than he used to. The tightness of the uniform reveals every inch of him. At the sound of his laugh, my face turns an alarming shade of red and I rip my eyes away from him because the ground become suddenly fascinating.

"So, are you going to answer me?" he asks with a playful nudge.

"I'm being collected at noon," I shrug.

"Should you be dressed, um, a little, you know, better? I mean, you are representing the district. Maybe you should put a ribbon in your hair or something?" he says tugging at my braid.

Unlike Cray, I'm not uncomfortable with R- _Darius_. He's like a brother to me and was my first friend. He's a sweetheart and would never hurt a soul. That's what confuses me. Why, or how, did he become a Peacekeeper? He never liked them. He saw what they did to his sister, said they were horrid monsters.

Seeming to sense my thoughts, the redhead pulls out a little package from his side bag, pushes it into my arms, and, without a word, leaves. There is a note on the package that reads:

_Katniss,_

_Do not open this unless you are alone. There is a lot that you do not know that you need to. I know that you are confused about why I have joined. It will all be explained in this. You must not let anyone find this. I trust that you will be safe as you were always good at being sneaky about hiding things. Sae knows about this and will give you a room. Stay strong, and don't forget who you are._

_Roal._

I look over to Sae who shifts her eyes to a room behind her stall. Nodding in understanding, I walk into the room and tear open the package. Inside is a small, withered journal engraved with my name.


	2. Chapter Two: Making Up

**Guest: **Thank you so much! I'm trying my best! :)

**Browniangel: **Aww, thanks! If you have any ideas, shoot them at me!

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><p><strong>*****DISCLIMER*****<strong>

**Katniss: YOU'RE CHANGING THE STORY, AGAIN!?**

**Me: I have to! I'm just not happy with it!**

**Peeta: Katniss, love, maybe you should -**

**Katniss: ARE YOU FRICKING CRAZY! THE READERS LIKE IT HOW IT IS!**

**Peeta: Kat-**

**Me: I'M MAKING IT BETTER!**

**Katniss: THIS IS JUST AN EXCUSE BECAUSE YOU HAVEN'T UPDATED IN SO LONG!**

**Peeta: KATNISS!**

**Katniss: FOR BALLS SAKE, WHAT?!**

**Peeta: Be quiet.**

**Haymitch: Oh, shit. Peeta. . . .RUN!**

**Peeta (Screaming and running away from Katniss): SAY THE DISCLAIMER!**

**Haymitch: Lovely does not own the Hunger Games Trilogy, she merely writes fanfiction for entertainment. All rights belong to Suzanne Collins.**

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><p><em>Previously:<em>

_Seeming to sense my thoughts, the redhead pulls out a little package from his side bag, pushes it into my arms, and, without a word, leaves. There is a note on the package that reads:_

_Katniss,_

_Do not open this unless you are alone. There is a lot that you do not know that you need to. I know that you are confused about why I have joined. It will all be explained in this. You must not let anyone find this. I trust that you will be safe as you were always good at being sneaky about hiding things. Sae knows about this and will give you a room. Stay strong, and don't forget who you are._

_Roal._

_I look over to Sae who shifts her eyes to a room behind her stall. Nodding in understanding, I walk into the room and tear open the package. Inside is a small, withered journal engraved with my name._

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Making Up<br>**121313  
><em>LovelyUnderland<em>

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><p><strong>(KPOV)<strong>

"What's that you've got there?"

I jump at the voice behind me and see Cray's greedy eyes. My legs react quicker than my mind and, before I realize what I'm doing, I am out of the Hob and racing towards Victor's Village. It's secluded from every other building and gives a glimpse of what the Capitol is like.

When I pass through the gates, I don't stop. I run straight towards Haymitch's house, Prim and Mrs. Everdeen are in mine and Peeta's house is out of the question, and nearly crash into the door. Instantly, my nose is assaulted with the vile stench of alcohol and vomit. Clothes litter the floor and dishes are piled in the sink.

_How is this place even habitable?_

As I make my way through the dumps, I notice a basket of bread on the kitchen counter.

_Peeta must've stopped by. Stupid goody-two-shoes._

The snore from the living room stops me. In the corner, sprawled out on the floor, is Haymitch.

"Get up!" I yell because, truly, there is no other way to wake him up. When he doesn't wake up I smack his arm and say, "Get up, you lazy sack of shit. It's Tour Day!"

Still, I receive no other response than a loud snort. I set the journal on the mantle and, turning on my heel, march to the bathroom. I grab the corner pail and fill it in the tub with ice cold water. He's still sleeping when I return so, in one swift movement, I upend the pail over his head. Unfortunately I forgot about his violent reactions and I barely dodge the knife he's wielding.

"It's just me, Haymitch! _Christ_!" I hiss.

"_What the hell!_" he growls, coming to his senses.

After I open the window and retrieve the journal, I sit on the edge, prepared to run for it.

"You told me to wake you an hour before the cameras come. I was just listening," I say with a shrug.

"Why am I all wet?" he asks, squeezing water from his shirt.

"Because your ass wouldn't wake up when I tried to shake you, so I dumped water on you instead. It did the trick."

I snort as he huffs.

"Look, if you wanted to be babied, you should have asked Peeta."

"Ask me what?"

That stupid voice causes me to tense and brings back the guilty feeling. My heart hammers in my chest and it astounds me that it hasn't popped out. The atmosphere become cold and awkward. I can feel Haymitch's eyes flicking between Peeta and I.

I barely notice that Peeta has made his way to me until he holds out a small bun with cheese melted on top of it. Everyday he makes something new, according to Haymitch, and everyday he leaves these stupid, delicious cheese buns on my porch. I make Prim retrieve them every day so I don't have to show my surprise and awe.

Dumbly, I stare at the creation before taking it. It tastes heavenly, as always.

"So, once again, 'asked me what'?" Peeta iterates, but the harshness in his voice reminds me where we stand with each other.

"Ask you to wake me up without giving me damn pneumonia," Haymitch replies.

I can feel Peeta's eyes burning holes through me.

"Thank you," I say and hold up my piece of bread, "um, for the bread."

My voice is noticeably different. It's high and. . .nervous? I take a chance and look up at him. The coldness in his eyes brings up a shamed blush on my face. When he doesn't respond after a few minutes, I look away and let the silence to fill the air.

"Brr. You two really have a lot of warming up to do," Haymitch says through a mouth full of bread. "Look, you both need to deal with the situation because the audience expects a happy couple and, at the moment, you two are not exactly supporting that picture."

It annoys me that Haymitch is right. . . .about something he knows nothing of. I want to leave, but I'm stopped when he snatches something from my hand. The journal. I curse at myself for not hiding it in my bag. Reaching out to take it, I'm thrown back by Haymitch's arm.

Apparently he's much stronger than I ever thought because I end up halfway across the room, hitting my skull on the table. The headache appears almost immediately. . . .as does Peeta. I guess even our incident didn't change his protective side because he begins looking me over for any sign of wear or tear.

"I'm fine," I say brushing his had away. The amount of blood that is on his hand makes me queasy.

"Sweetheart, where did you get this?" Haymitch asks, but his voice has a hint of fear in it.

"Give me that back!" I hiss and force myself up.

I'm overcome with dizziness and stumble backwards. I brace myself for the fall but it never happens. Why? Peeta has once again caught me. Slowly, he lowers me onto the couch and whispers, "I'll get it."

At first, I don't know what he is talking about, until I hear him arguing with Haymitch. The journal lands in my lap soon after, with the two standing in front of me. I feel as though I am in a room for questioning or under my father's watch.

"Well, sweetheart, are you going to explain where you got that?" Haymitch grumbles.

"It's mine," I say, bringing the journal to my chest.

Haymitch rolls his eyes at me and says, "That's obvious enough, the thing has your name in it, but did you look on the back?"

I turn the tattered book over and see something I'd missed before.

In faded, gold lettering, is Property of Suzanne Eliza Everdeen. Confusion sets in. Maybe Roal– er, _Darius_, was playing a trick on me. Maybe he joined my father's side and planted this as a set up. . .but that's not like him to do. Even if Darius was on my father's side, he wouldn't do that.

"I got it from a friend," I say and turn to to Peeta, "today. . .down at the Hob."

Haymitch reaches for the journal again, but Peeta stops him. They exchange a look and Peeta sits next to me. "Katniss, what do you know about Mrs. Everdeen?"

"What?" I ask.

"This journal, Katniss, belonged to her. Have you read anything in it?" Haymitch snaps.

I jump at the rise in his voice and lean into Peeta. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around me, as if to protect me from our mentor. Haymitch reminds me a lot of father when he's mad, except that he's less violent. When Haymitch softens his expression I notice that I've started shaking. And, despite my tight grip on the book, Peeta manages to pull it from me and hands it over to him.

"Katniss, I don't want you reading this. Not yet, at least."

I begin to protest, but am silenced by Peeta.

"Trust us, okay? Don't read it until after the tour."

Reluctantly, I nod my head. I want to know what's in the book, badly, but Peeta's warning look prevents me from taking the book and locking myself in a room. Haymitch leaves the room with the book and when he comes back, it's not with him.

"Let's take a look at your head, it's still bleeding."

Peeta takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen. Clearing off the counter, he picks me up with ease and plants me onto the beautiful marble. I go wide-eyed when he wipes my face and the amount of blood on the towel reminds me of my previous nausea. I've never been good with blood and injuries, even my own.

"Don't look at it," Peeta whispers.

It's his hushed tone that makes me think of a father tending to his child. One day, he is going to make an amazing parent and whoever ends up with him will be lucky. Because Peeta Mellark is, in all ways, perfect.

"I'm sorry," I mumble.

Peeta sighs and sets the blood-filled rag in the sink. I half expect him to lash out on me. He reserves the right to do so. However, like always, Peeta is calm. I catch his eyes before transfixing mine on the tile. With his thumb and forefinger, Peeta lifts my chin and plants a kiss on my lips. A warm feeling fills my belly and everything feels perfect and safe.

"It's fine," he says, and pulls away, "I forgave you awhile back."

I don't want him to stop kissing me. My legs wrap around his waist, trapping him, and in response, he quirks his eyebrow and smiles. His body tells me that he feels my longing as he leans down and presses his lips onto mine. He slowly runs his tongue against my bottom lip before pushing it inside. We fight for dominance but in the end, he wins. A moan leaks from his mouth and–

"Sweetheart, I said make up, not make out."

_Damn._


	3. Chapter Three: It's Forever

**Ilovethemanofsteel:** Hahaha, sorry for the confusion!  
><strong>CrazyAboutHG:<strong> I try, thank you! I will be writing a sequel to this one as well. :)  
><strong>Lifeasitisknown:<strong> I will, thank you!  
><strong>Katya:<strong> Only time will tell, however, I will let you know this. There is a very interesting reason behind it. Any ideas or suggestions about other parts, let me know. :) Hello to you from . . . . Wonderland. ;)  
><strong>CuteBrunetteThatLovesHG192:<strong> Katniss doesn't read it until after the tour, sorry. In a few more chapters you will find out.  
><strong>Zrexheartz:<strong> Haymitch will have many interesting remarks in this story. :)  
><strong>Oreocookielove2468:<strong> I refuse to give up on this story. I will finish it no matter how long it takes! :)  
><strong>piepie1289:<strong> Haha, it's okay. This chapter will be very long – as a gift and a apology for not being able to update for the past few weeks.  
><strong>Guest:<strong> I will, I will, I promise!  
><strong>Guest: <strong>Please, refer to the first story. That should clear that up, or read between the lines. . . that might help.  
><strong>Browniangel: <strong>Katniss is very. . . .confused. Even in the books she was, but it's worse now because of snow. And there is a huge incident that will happen with Roal, just wait. :)

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><p><strong>*****DISCLAIMER*****<strong>

**Haymitch: Lovely does not own any part of the Hunger Games trilogy. And, she –**

**Me: Fuck you, bitch! *Runs after him***

**Haymitch: KATNISS HELP!**

**Katniss: *filing her nails. . . .looks up* Huh, ha, you're fucked.**

**Haymitch: HELP ME!**

**Katniss: Hell no. You got yourself into this one, Haymitch.**

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><p><em>Previously:<em>

_"It's fine," he says, and pulls away, "I forgave you awhile back."_

_I don't want him to stop kissing me. My legs wrap around his waist, trapping him, and in response, he quirks his eyebrow and smiles. His body tells me that he feels my longing as he leans down and presses his lips onto mine. He slowly runs his tongue against my bottom lip before pushing it inside. We fight for dominance but in the end, he wins. A moan leaks from his mouth and–_

_"Sweetheart, I said make up, not make out."_

_Damn._

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: It's Forever<br>**012513  
><em>LovelyUnderland<em>

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><p><strong>(KPOV)<strong>

There are moments where it feels as though the weight of the world is on my shoulders and that the fates have it out for me. I suppose this could be considered one of those moments. In front of me is the President of Panem, otherwise known to me as father.

When I left Haymitch's house, I saw the Capitol cars in front of mine. Three guards escorted me into one of the studies without a word. They were new, or transferred, because none of them were from District 12 and I had met all the old ones in the Capitol.

Mrs Everdeen's face was pale and her body was trembling with anxiety as she walked in the room to deliver tea and cookies. Not once did she look at father. In fact, when he greeted her, she sounded like a mouse as she scurried out of the room. Something that brought much entertainment to father.

Throughout my stay, he never bothered me. The media trailed me everywhere I went, but he never made an appearance or called. To my delight, I hadn't seen him in months. . . .so I don't understand why he is here now. I fly through my thoughts to figure out what I could've done to have him to arrive at my house uninvited. Then again, the president doesn't need an invitation. Does he?

I stop at the memory in the woods a few weeks ago. Gale and I were hunting game when he kissed me out of nowhere. I didn't get the feeling that I did with Peeta. It wasn't a good or unpleasant feeling; if anything, it was awkward and confusing. The only thing Gale said about it was that he had to do it at least once.

My cheeks tingle at his words echoing in my ears. Should I feel ashamed of myself for the kiss? Yes. Am I, though? I really don't know. A large part of me regrets it because I am even more confused than I was before. The other part enjoyed it, not the fact that it was Gale, but because I had missed Peeta doing it. I missed that feeling of being wanted.

"Princess," he begins, folding his hands together on top the desk, "let's make this simple, shall we? Why don't we agree not to lie."

"That would be a fair agreement," I say through the thick air that seems to be smothering me.

Father leans forward so our noses are nearly touching. I can smell the sickening fumes from the rose on his satin lapel, but a metallic scent also registers as the cold, snake-like eyes he has burns holes through my head. Staying still is a difficult task. All I really want to do is go into the woods where I can be free.

"You didn't pull those berries out as an act of love, Katniss." he says.

My blank expression falters.

"Believe me, dear, had the whole country not been so in love with the pathetic idea of you and that boy, I would have had you blown to bits. Unfortunately, Seneca refused to follow orders and allowed you both to live. . . .so, do you know what that means?"

"Yes," I say.

He takes a long sip of his tea and we sit in a moment of silence. His puffy lips are even more thick and pursed. It seems that he's received more alterations done since I last saw him. The reptilian look isn't good on him, but he enjoys it.

"There are many who do not believe your 'love' is real. In the districts there are uprisings beginning and- "

"Uprisings?" I interject, cutting his words short. "What uprisings?"

Anger flickers on his face for a second before it is covered by a sober expression. Father picks up a cheese bun and examines it with a smile before taking a nibble.

"Wonderful, did your mo- " He pauses and clears his throat as if the food had been lodged in his through. _I wish it had._ "Pardon me. Your most, eloquent mentor– did he make these?"

An indignant snort erupts from me. Haymitch wouldn't cook even if he knew how. Besides, he's rarely sober enough to do so.

"No," I say. "Peeta did."

"Ah, and how is he?"

My throat becomes dry. The teacup I'm holding shows how much my body is shaking, almost as bad as Mrs. Everdeen's was. Peeta is the last person that I want to talk about, but I don't have a choice.

I meet father's gaze long enough to say, "Well enough."

"My sweet daughter," father says in an odd tone. "Are you not as, for lack of a better word, as taken to him as you have the country believing? Well, what about that other boy, Mr. Hawthorne, I believe his name is? Oh, yes, that 'distant relative' of yours."

Ignoring the comment, I swirl the tea around. The conversation, though it has only begun, feels like it has been going on for hours. The mention of Gale jumps my stomach.

"Would it be possible for you to get to the point of your visit?" I blurt out.

"Tread the waters with caution, Katniss," he whispers in an almost inaudible tone. "I have no intention of harming my own flesh and blood."

"Father, I thought we agreed not to lie to each other?" I hiss through clenched teeth.

From behind the desk, Father gives out a hearty laugh that fills the room. I've never heard him laugh before –well, not like this, anyway– because this one sounds sincere and adoring. His face turns a deep shade of red as he continues.

"Very well spotted, my dear. I shall rephrase my words. Be careful with those you do not know. Many people are looking for any way to harm you and any reason to revolt. You see, you have ignited a spark that, if left unattended, may grow into a flame of destruction. You alone have provided a reason to revolt. . . .and you alone have the power to tame that."

Before he leaves the room, Father puts a hand on my shoulder. There is so much pressure that it aches. And then says the last thing that I ever expected.

"Watch your step, Katniss. While I have spared your life, I do not know if I can continue with the leniency if you fail to convince the people of your. . ._love_. Do listen to me when I say that a revolt is not the right way to go. I don't know if I could stand putting my own daughter to death because, though you greatly resemble your mother, you still mean a great deal to me, Kitten."

_Kitten?_

Father hasn't called me that since I was a very young girl. It was a nickname he created for me when I was four. I can only remember him using it a few times, but each time was a rare moment between us that I've pushed into the dark corners of my mind.

Gravity is against me. I can't bring myself to rise from the office chair. My knuckles have gone white and my jaw has locked shut. Inside, the anger I feel for the man is ebbing away. Why is this happening to me? Why can't I keep that anger held against him? Because deep down I know that he meant what he said.

_Yes, but he meant all of it._

"Katniss, dear, are you okay?"

Mrs. Everdeen is knelt down in front of me with a cold hand pressed against my forehead. With eyes full of worry, she looks me over for any sign of disturbance. It took me quite some time to allow her to treat me as a mother would a baby. Eleania, father's worker, was the closest thing to a mother that I've ever had and even she could only loosely qualify as one.

"I'm fine," I say with a shrug.

"What– what did President Snow want?" she asks.

"Oh, he just wanted to wish me luck."

I give her the best smile I can plaster on my face and find the strength to stand from the chair. Prim is standing in the doorway. She knows I've lied. Thankfully, she remains silent as she leads me to the bath that has been prepared for me.

Prim is a small girl with light skin, long blond hair, and big, blue eyes. She resembles Peeta like I resemble Gale. And, like Peeta, she sees almost everything with great optimism and tries to help everyone. Loving Prim is easy, since she's so sweet and innocent. In the week I stayed with the Everdeens before the Games, she quickly became a little sister to me.

The warm water envelopes my body like a warm blanket as I step into it. It calms me, but doesn't end my thoughts. Father. Peeta. Gale. They're all invading my head and bringing up unwanted memories. Currently, I can only think about the kiss between Gale and I. . . .and how Peeta will react.

He will be mad at me, again. By allowing Gale's lips on mine, I've broken Peeta's trust. I'm absolutely positive that father already knows about the kiss. There are cameras everywhere.

"Katniss!" three voices chorus, as they scatter my wayward thought.

Turning my head to the door, I see three very Capitol-looking people with wide smiles on their faces. Octavia, Venia, and Flavius. My prep team. Venia's hair has been dyed aqua blue and given a pointed look. If her head was any closer to mine, she would've poked an eye out. Golden tattoos frame her wide eyes and her blue lips formed a shocked O.

Octavia, a plumpish woman with skin tinted a light evergreen, walks over and pulls me out of the bath. Had I not been used to my nude body being exposed to my prep team, I would've fought against her. Octavia looks me up and down and narrows her eyes at me.

"You could've at least left us something to work with! Honestly, your nails have been bitten to stubs and your eyebrows have grown into bushes!" Octavia shrieks.

Flavius takes a few steps to me and fumbles with my hair. Flavius is the only male of the group though he has very feminine eyes with extremely long eyelashes and a very thin figure. His tight, orange curls bounce on his head as he circles me, huffing and puffing about take care of my hair.

"Did you even listen to us about your hair? Has anyone messed with it?" he asks grumpily.

"Of course," I answer proudly, because it's the only thing I actually did listen to them about.

Content with my response, they wrap me in a plush robe and begin their work. They ramble on about every topic that pops in their mind and, for a while, I'm not bothered by it. That ends when they begin to discuss this year's Hunger Games. This year the Games will be the Quarter Quell.

Put simply, the Quarter Quell occurs every twenty-five years. Each Quell increases the excitement for the Games by adding twists to the extremes. . . .twists such as adding double the amount of tributes to the Games.

"You will be a mentor this year! How exciting!" Venia squeals, nearly bouncing on her toes.

"I wonder what the surprise will be!" Flavius exclaims with a grin.

The three go on and on until Mrs. Everdeen walks in. Wringing her hands in front of her, she explains that Cinna wanted her to teach the group how to braid my hair. Flavius, Venia, and Octavia then watch in awe as Mrs. Everdeen gracefully turns my hair. Their eyes follow and consume her every movement with enthusiasm.

Once they have mastered braiding my hair, I am released downstairs, where Cinna and Effie are waiting for me. Effie immediately jumps into her squawking about the schedule, arrangements, and attitude. Right as I am about to tell her to shut her mouth, Cinna speaks up.

He tells me that I have developed a passion for designing clothes, which was of course inspired by him. Every victor is supposed to have some hobby of sorts that they take up after the Games since they are wealthy enough to never have to work again. Nothing we tried fit me, so Cinna chose my talent.

Cinna's sketch book shows beautiful dressed that have the Capitol look and still look relatively normal. I smirk at him as I gaze around the room where he has posted all different types of fabrics, clothing, and designs.

"Well, I dare say that I show a lot of promise, Cinna." I say.

"Get dressed, you worthless thing," Cinna chuckles as he throws a rolled-up pile of clothes at me.

As I dress, I can see Prim being interviewed in another room. She's beautifully put together, I note, as she teeters back and forth on her toes. She's like a bird about to fly. I hear a soft giggle and–

Rue. I see Rue standing there. The small girl from District 11 that died in the arena. The scene flashes in front of me. Her screams, the spear piercing her small chest, and the arrow that I sent through the boy that killed her, Marvel.

They weren't the only ones who died because of my actions, but I don't have time to torture myself with that knowledge because Cinna is putting a coat on me. The fur tickles my arms and the scarf holds my neck. He places earmuffs on me. I don't like them because they remind me of when I lost my hearing in the arena.

With the Mockingjay pin in her grasp, Mrs. Everdeen rushes over to me and pins it on the coat. She kisses my cheek, wishes me luck, and then takes her place by Prim's side.

"Attention, attention, everyone! We are going out to take the first shot where the victors will greet each other to begin the tour!" Effie announces and then, literally, pushes me out the door.

I sway to catch my balance and shoot her daggers. The snow falling blanks out my vision for a bit. I can barely see Peeta walking out his front door when I run straight into his arms as if I can't stand the wait. He spins me and we go tumbling down. Peeta lost his leg in our Games and he still struggles with his command of the artificial one.

Peeta holds out his hand to help me up. In his eyes I can see– hurt? _Yes, hurt._ The only thing I can come up with is that, despite saying otherwise, he hasn't fully forgiven me.

From the village to the train station, Peeta and I put on our show. Everything is actually a blur to me. I can't even remember what we had for dinner on the train. And now, I'm in my bed listening to the train that has lulled almost everyone to sleep.

I am never able to sleep well while it's dark out. However, it's the anxiety and father that have me up tonight. Finally, I get up and wander down the train halls until I reach Haymitch's room. He's awake, I know it, because he never sleeps while it's dark, but I still have to knock several times before he responds.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he groans.

The nauseating smell of alcohol pours out of his room and into the hall. Fortunately, his eyes have yet to glaze over so he is still coherent.

"I need to talk to you," I say with urgency in my voice.

"This better be good," he grumbles and takes me to the back of the train.

Everything is bugged, so I don't dare talk until I pull Haymitch outside, explaining to a Capitol attendant that Haymitch is drunk when he stumbles down the stairs. Once out, I tell him everything of father's visit and Gale's kiss.

"You kissed– Katniss why in hell would you do that?" Haymitch hisses, spraying spit all over the place.

"HE– KISSED– ME!" I growl louder than I intend to.

"Do you understand what your father was implying?" he says still clenching his teeth.

"Who in hell could understand my father? If you think you do, humour me because even after living with him for nearly seventeen years, I still don't."

My fists are curled at my side. Why I feel mad that Haymitch thinks he understands my father better than I do is a mystery to me. I'm not jealous though. That's ridiculous.

"You-Cannot-Fail." Haymitch says articulating every word with a poke to my shoulder.

"What does that even mean?"

"If you don't convince everyone you love Peeta, you will stir the people into a full rebellion. If you fail, he will not only kill you, but everyone else you care for."

Ice forms in my throat, and it burns.

"Haymitch," I say with a thick voice. "Haymitch, help me get through this trip. Please, just this- "

"It is not just this trip," he says in a low and furious voice.

I have words on the tip of my tongue, but no matter my efforts, I can't speak.

"This 'romance' you two have is set in stone. You will never be able to escape it. They will revisit it every year. You and Peeta are stuck together, whether or not you like it. It is forever."

Despite the cold snow on the tracks, I lower myself to the ground. My legs are weak and wobbly, and standing doesn't seem like an option for me. I have no choice but to stay with Peeta forever– to love him forever. He's an amazing guy, there is no doubt about that. Peeta could make any girl fall for him and love him. But I don't. I don't love him. . . . because love isn't real. It is just a fairytale.


	4. Chapter Four: Let The Tour Begin

**Piepie1289:** These are entertaining, haha. Be patient, Loveling! :)  
><strong>ilovethemanofsteel:<strong> Teeheeheeheehee :)  
><strong>Wisegirl13:<strong> I know! I was like that when I was reading to books. As an author myself, situations like this can be extremely, extremely annoying. The thing is that, it's in her character to be so confused and it's very difficult to break character in the middle of everything without making the readers get their knickers in a twist. Thanks for reading. :)  
><strong>Oreocookielove2468:<strong> Dun, dun, dun. Haha, since you asked so nicely. . . .  
><strong>Eliley:<strong> Thank you! :)  
><strong>Browniangel: <strong>Oh my gosh, I absolutely love your reviews! I'm sorry that I'm rewriting the chapters, but I promise I will make it better! Thank you!

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><p><strong>*****DISCLAIMER*****<strong>

**Me: *Rams shoulder into bars* Lemme outta here! Let me out!**

**Peeta: She's still going at it?**

**Haymitch: Has been for a good hour now.**

**Peeta: Wouldn't that - *Loud Bang***

**Me: I'M FREE MUTH FUCKAS!**

**Peeta: Get her!**

**Katniss: *Shouts* RUN, LOVELY, RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN!**

**Haymitch: Katniss!**

**Katniss: All you guys will do is the disclaimer.**

**Peeta: But we have to. People need to know that she doesn't own the Hunger Games Trilogy.**

**Katniss: Yeah, but forcing her to say it or saying for her will only annoy Lovely.**

**Haymitch: Look. Sweetheart. I know you're being thoughtful and all, but the fact is that LovelyUnderland is not Suzanne Collins. Lovely owns no part of the Hunger Games Trilogy.**

**Katniss: No, but she owns the fan fiction plot. Just let her be. She'll come to terms with it.**

**Peeta: Yeah, the moment I stop loving you.**

* * *

><p><em>Previously:<em>

_I have words on the tip of my tongue, but no matter my efforts, I can't speak._

_"This 'romance' you two have is set in stone. You will never be able to escape it. They will revisit it every year. You and Peeta are stuck together, whether or not you like it. It is forever."_

_Despite the cold snow on the tracks, I lower myself to the ground. My legs are weak and wobbly, and standing doesn't seem like an option for me. I have no choice but to stay with Peeta forever– to love him forever. He's an amazing guy, there is no doubt about that. Peeta could make any girl fall for him and love him. But I don't. I don't love him. . . . because love isn't real. It is just a fairytale._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four: Let The Tour Begin<br>**012914  
><em>LovelyUnderland<em>

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><p><strong>(KPOV)<strong>

I never went to sleep, yet I didn't exactly stay awake either. The in-between. That's what I like to call being stuck in my flashbacks. As much as I would like to say that I have gotten over the Hunger Games and forgotten, I can't. It would be a lie. It's a matter of living with the memories.

By the time I find my way back to the land of the living, I am drenched in sweat, hair plastered to my flushed cheeks. . .and standing in the doorway, glass in hand, is Peeta. Haymitch's words come back to me and I feel the pit of my stomach turning cold. I'm still just a kid. He's still just a kid. Yet, it seems like our lives are already set out for us.

"Here," he murmurs in a soft voice, handing me the glass of water.

"What time is it?" I ask, trying to focus my eyes, but I am so exhausted that I can't seem to do so.

"Breakfast time. You had me scared," he says.

"How so?" I ask, sipping the water. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was until then.

"Well," he begins, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, "Your eyes were open from the moment I walked into the room, but you weren't blinking. I, uh, got worried."

"What, that I was dead? I'm not that lucky," I muse into the glass.

Peeta shoots me a glare that tells me to keep my morbid comments to myself. It's funny how he cares more about my life than I do.

"Something simple," he mutters, and walks to the closet.

He pulls out a sleeveless blue dress for me to wear. I remember Cinna saying that I wasn't going to have much prepping done for the tour. Gently, Peeta lifts me and carries me to the shower. As he scrubs my skin, I think about all we've been through. Comparing him to Gale.

Gale didn't go through the Games. He's stable, and that's what I need. A smile graces my face at the thought of having a stable life. A normal life. And as quick as it appears, it goes, because Gale wouldn't be able to understand my nightmares or flashbacks.

"You're thinking of him," Peeta says softly.

"Who?" I reply dumbly.

"Gale."

Even though my back is to him, the pain is clear in his voice.

"Yes," I answer, in a voice so quiet that it's almost inaudible. "He kissed me. . .and I kissed him back."

Peeta freezes with his hands in my hair. He stays like that for an eternity. I want him to say something, anything. Yell at me, call me names. Why I said it, I don't know. Keeping it from him only made me feel guilty. I guess I thought that admitting to it would ease that, but I was wrong.

The warm comfort of the water around me changes as Peeta removes his hands and pours water onto my hair to remove the suds. Then, I hear him walking to the sink. After the long minutes of silence, I turn to see him clutching the edge of the glass sink. His knuckles are white and he's breathing heavily, but the worst are the tear stains on his face.

"Peeta," I murmur, standing from the tub. He's seen me bare before, so nothing would surprise him now.

He tenses as I rest my hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I whisper with a kiss to his neck. When he pulls away from me it's like nothing I've ever felt before.

"No, Katniss. You aren't sorry," Peeta hisses and, without even glancing my way, he leaves the room.

The pain I feel in my stomach is different then before. Almost like men - shit.

The smell of warm soup brings little comfort as I walk into the dining cart. Haymitch and Effie look up and, as luck would have it, Effie has that annoying, joyous look on her face. I've barely put four spoonfuls of soup in my mouth when she starts going on about the schedule. I try to block her out to the best of my ability, but her high tone breaks through my barriers. I'm relieved when she exits the room to speak to one of the workers.

Cinna and Portia, who entered shortly after me, try to make small talk with Peeta and I, but neither of us are having it. I don't think anything could cut through the tension in the room. Haymitch forced us to Peeta and I to sit together. While he is basically sitting on Portia's lap, I'm literally on Cinna's. The only reason he hasn't complained is because of the death glare I shot at him when he tried.

"Can you believe it?" Effie's piercing voice sounds. "The train has to stop because something went wrong. Oh, this is going to mess with our entire schedule! We will only have twenty minutes to each district– barely any time for relaxation– prep and dressing– Oh, no! This is horrible! I can't even begin to– "

"Effie, shut the hell up!" I shout, startling everyone.

Ignoring the looks centred onto me I stand, so quickly that my chair falls with a loud thud, and walk out of the train. There is very little snow on the ground, but it's still bitter out. Four more days until we reach District 11. Four days between each district and the capitol. . . .that's almost two months, plus the eleven days it takes to get back to District 12. This tour will take two months.

_I have to deal with everyone for two -_

I keep walking until I can no longer see the train and plant myself on the tracks. Not a minute later I can hear someone walking up from behind me. I assume that it's Haymitch coming to chew me out.

"Leave me alone, I don't care to hear your lecture," I snap.

"I'll save the speech, then."

"I - I thought you were Haymitch," I mumble, embarrassed.

Peeta sighs and sits beside me.

"If you were trying to break another person, you succeeded," he bit out, in a voice so cold that the metal tracks feel like fire in comparison.

"I never meant to hurt–" I begin.

"Katniss, I'm not so sure about that. You seem to have a good record going against that statement. It's funny, actually, how I could still care for you."

_Ouch._

It's true though and I can't argue against fact. He says nothing else and my voice doesn't seem to be working. It's Haymitch that finds us and makes me apologize to Effie. While it sounds all too forced, but she accepts it anyway and hugs me. I want to shove her off, but I hold my ground.

The rest of the day, I avoid everyone, even Cinna. The next morning, I'm the one that is avoided. It's a good thing, too, because I'm in a mood where I will snap at anyone that gets in my way. Haymitch made the mistake of saying that it was PMS, but I set him straight. It wasn't that. It was aunt Flow. No, they are not the same thing.

Anyway, Effie continues to cry over what I said to her earlier. She stepped on my foot with those damn towers of hers and I chewed her out for it. Sure, I felt a little guilty when I saw the tears in her eyes, but she should've felt bad for breaking my foot. Peeta was by her side comforting her, right away, and sending glares at me. I just left. Everyone acted like I had committed a crime.

Once again, I am alone in my room, waiting for the train put me to sleep. I've wrapped a towel around my head as a sort of gag. As much as they've all pissed me off, I don't want to wake them up with my screams.

* * *

><p><em>"You killed him!" a woman cries holding Marvel's limp body.<em>

_Dropping my bow, I say, "I-I'm sorry! He killed her! He sent the spear-"_

_"HE WAS MY SON! YOU MONSTER!" she screams._

_"I-"_

_"Katniss how could you do this? He was innocent!" Peeta spits with disgust._

_"Peeta, it was instinct. I was just trying to protect Rue."_

_"I didn't need your protection. I was going to die anyway," says Rue who is beside me._

_"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!"_

_"I have to do this, Katniss. You don't deserve to live," Peeta says as he lifts a gun to my head._

_"NO!"_

* * *

><p>My throat is sore and I've fallen into a coughing fit. Ripping away the gag, I sprint off of the bed and to the bathroom. The cool water relieves my throat, but I nearly choke when I see a figure sitting on the bed. Instinct takes over and I start to scream. I feel a warm hand cover my mouth and then. . . .nothing.<p> 


	5. Chapter Five: Night Tears

**RATED R SCENE!**

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><p><em>Previously:<em>

_My throat is sore and I've fallen into a coughing fit. Ripping away the gag, I sprint off of the bed and to the bathroom. The cool water relieves my throat, but I nearly choke when I see a figure sitting on the bed. Instinct takes over and I start to scream. I feel a warm hand cover my mouth and then. . . .nothing._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five: Night Tears<br>**050614  
><em>LovelyUnderland<em>

* * *

><p>That stupid drunk! Who does that? You NEVER sneak up on a person that has been through the Hunger Games - especially in the middle of the night. Haymitch thought it would be a genius idea though and, in his drunkin' stupor, he acted upon it.<p>

In the five minutes it took me to realize that it was only Haymitch and get my heart rate regulated, I've devised a plan to kill the stupid bastard. Yes, a slow and painful death for the bullshit he's caused me. I'm surprised that no one heard me screaming, or maybe it was just that no one cared. Assholes.

"What do you want," I hiss as I sit back down on my bed.

"I want to talk about you and Peeta," he grumbles.

"What about us?"

"You need to realize that you will have to be with him - "

"For the rest of my life, I know! I've already wrapped my mind around that, Haymitch, thank you for reminding me!" I snap.

I will never have a life of my own, but that doesn't mean I want to be have that thought on my mind at all times. But knowing Haymitch he will make sure it's the only thing filling my head when nothing else is occupying it.

"No, Katniss, you haven't wrapped your head around it! You're too busy moping about the fact that your life is set to realize that it could be a lot worse. That boy is head over heels for you and you have done nothing, but hurt him! I don't know what the hell is going on with you and the Hawthorne boy, but it needs to end - IMMEDIATELY!"

The stinging sensation in my eyes startles me, but the voice that I let out is worse. Instead of sounding with confidence and pride, my words are shaken and weak.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do! You don't understand a thing about Gale and I-"

"I understand that you kissed him back. I understand that you're allowing him to blind your own feelings, but you have no idea why. Here's a hint, you're afraid of the fact that someone had actually been able to bring your guard down - that maybe, just maybe, you might actually have be capable of an emotion other than anger and hate."

I don't have to listen to his words.

"Go ahead, sweetheart, walk away. Do what you do best, leave. Just know that you are not only risking your own life by fooling around with that other boy, but you are also risking Peeta's as well. And what will you do when he's been killed or taken by the enemy? Hm? How do you think you will feel, other than feeling like complete shit? I'll tell you. You will be broken and alone because you'll realize far too late that you care for the boy."

The anger in Haymitch's voice is crystal clear. His eyes are no longer glazed with intoxication. Instead, they are filled with fury, but there's something else. . . .remorse. And that's when the wires connect. Yes, of course. I remember father speaking about it once over the phone. Haymitch lost everyone he loved. . . .because he was too stubborn to listen.

"Who was she?" I ask.

His head snaps to me so quickly that I fear it may pop off. Fortunately, it doesn't. Haymitch only stares at me as if trying to decide my worth. Then, in a rush, he pushes himself off of the wall he'd been leaning against and leaves the room. The trail of fumes he leaves behind is nauseating. Opening the window doesn't seem to help at all, but the icy wind and sound of the friction on the tracks brings me an odd sort of comfort.

I imagine that I'm escaping; going to one of those outside lands that don't hold the Hunger Games. The lands that I've heard Eleania talk about so many times. They're places where everyone is free to do what they want. There is no reaping or divided Districts. They have what are called "cities". I would love to visit a "cities" one day. Though it may never happen, the thought alone is nice.

Before I know it, I'm taken into a deep slumber. One that seems almost too perfect. That is until I'm rudely awakened by a squawking Effie.

"Get up, get up, Katniss. It's a brand new day and we have a lot to do!" she cheers.

"What time is it?" I mumble into the pillow.

"Well, time for you to get up, dear. I would think that you'd know this!"

I resist the urge to tell her to fuck off, but only because the train makes a sudden jolt that sends a wave of nausea throughout my body.

"Oh my, it seems we've stopped."

"No shit," I snap as soon as I'm positive that I won't sick up.

"Language!" the perky pest chimes.

With all the will I have, I bite my tongue, flip the blanket away, roll out of my nest, and stagger to the bathroom. The shower momentarily makes me forget the world that hates me so much. . . .that is until I hear Effie's obnoxious chirping and Haymitch's fist against the door, alerting me that I've been under the fountain far too long. Underclothes. Pants. Blouse. Braid.

With casualty, I open the door and push my way past the two scowls that greet me. In the dining cart I see Cinna and Peeta sitting at the table. They've already started their meals and, by the looks of it, Effie and Haymitch have finished. Peeta only looks up when I clear my throat. His eyes are red and puffy, and there are bags under them.

Look what you've done to him. How could you break someone with such a loving heart?

There's a pain in my stomach. No, seriously. It's awkward, almost pressure like. Cramps? I've never had to deal with them because of the injections given to stop a woman's cycle. That being said I can count the amount of times I've actually had mine on one hand, but they've never been painful. Not like this. I mean, it's not complaint worthy, but it is uncomfortable.

"Katniss!" a voice shouts.

"What?" I say, blinking dumbly.

"You've been out for a good while," says Cinna. "are you okay?"

"Fine," I murmur.

"We'll be arriving in District Eleven in five hours," Effie announces.

"District - what? We aren't supposed to arrive until tomorrow!" I screech.

"Katniss, you slept for a day straight. Haymitch said it was due to stress," Peeta says in a raspy voice.

"Oh."

* * *

><p>In one corner, Rue's family. Her sisters and brothers crowded around their mother. They look so much like her. And across from them, in the other corner, Thresh's family. They consist of his sister and grandmother. Both look at me with anger in their eyes. Anger, because, I could've died and he, survive.<p>

But Rue's family, they look at me with what I can only relate to respect. I don't deserve it. It's only when I hear Peeta offer up his portions that I snap out of my daze. The people stare at us with wide eyes. I've missed half of his speech and haven't said a word to the families.

"I didn't know Thresh," the words leave my mouth without permission, "And I only spoke to him once, but. . . .he saved my life. He didn't have to, but he did. That's a debt. . . .I will never be able to repay. . . .And Rue. . . .I knew her. She was my friend, a friend that reminded me so much of Prim. She, too, saved me. She was everything of innocence. . . .childhood. . . .compassion. She was too young to be thrown into the Games. And. . . .I'm sorry that I couldn't save her, or Thresh. I'm sor-I'm sorry."

The next thing my ears register is Rue's whistle. Then, hell breaks lose. The guards grab an elderly man by the neck. Someone is screaming. The gun is pointed at his skull. Bang.

I can hear my name, but it's nearly drowned out by the screams coming from someone. They sound so lost and scared. Broken and hurt. It's not until the other voices stop that I realize, the screams are mine. No matter how hard I try, I can't stop. But when someone pulls on me and I hear their rhythmic beating.

"Snap out of it, Katniss!"

It's Haymitch?

"They - They shot him! He didn't do an-nything!" I say through trembling lips.

"What happened! Why are you freaking out? I know it's traumatic, but sweetheart you were in the Hunger Games for Christ's sake!" he growls.

"My-my father came to the h-house! He - I wasn't enough. He wants me to make our love story believable. I need him to know that I didn't mean to do that! I didn't mean for someone to die! Or to stir anything up!" I stammer.

"HE WHAT! KATNISS WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!" Peeta yells.

"HE THREATENED ME AND THE EVERDEENS!"

"KATNISS I HAVE FAMILY TOO! WHAT ABOUT THEM?! DID YOU EVER THINK ABOUT MY FAMILY OR WERE YOU TOO SELFISH TO DO THAT?!"

"I'M FUCKING SORRY, PEETA! I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO FUCKING DO!"

Now the tears are blurring my vision.

"ENOUGH! Both of you listen closely, especially you Katniss because I've said this more times than I've wanted to. You will never escape this! This year you are both mentors, that means your love story will be run EVERY YEAR FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIVES!" Haymitch snaps.

Peeta's whole body goes to a stand still. He looks between Haymitch and I and you can practically see the wheels turning in his mind.

"You two talked about this?" he says in a slow and unnerving tone, "You hid all of this from me. I can't - no, I can believe it. It's just like you to be so secretive and sneaky about important things. . . .just like your father."

The moment the words left his mouth, Peeta knew he had gone too far. I can't help the tears that fall like hot beads of coal. I can see him apologizing, but everything is muffled. I'm screaming again, but whatever I'm saying is making an impact because Peeta looks horrified and Haymitch - Haymitch looks as if he is going to commit murder.

* * *

><p><strong>(PPOV)<strong>

I shouldn't have said it, but I did. I was just so mad at her for hiding things from me. I only made things worse by offering my portions. Now she's screaming again and crying. I've never seen her cry this much in a day. She's telling me to leave, to get out of her life. She's calling me worthless.

She sounds so much like my mother. With the names she's calling me. It doesn't bother me though because I'm used to it. I am everything that she says I am. But only because it's coming from her. It wouldn't matter if it were anyone else.

"YOU WILL NEVER DESERVE ME, PEETA! NEVER!"

"KATNISS, SHUT THE FUCK U-" Haymitch begins.

"No, she's right," I say and walk out.

Outside of the room is Cinna. The solemn look on his face tells me that he heard everything. I think all of Panem heard, actually. With the cock of his head, Cinna leads me out to the back seating space. The windows give us a view of what we are leaving behind.

He doesn't speak, just sits and looks out the window. And that's when I see it. The writing on the walls. The mockingjay symbol. A sign of the revolution that is beginning.

"She started this?" I ask.

"No, she was only the spark that ignited a fire," he sighs.

"With all due respect, Cinna, why did you bring me back here?" I say as politely as I can.

"She loves you, she does. It's just that she's terrified of the feeling because she was trained to believe that love isn't real. I know that you know the truth. You and Haymitch. So, you can't really be mad at her when you are hiding something too."

His words catch me off guard. How had I not thought about that? And why does it make me even more furious?

"Because you believe she'll never admit her love."

* * *

><p><strong>(KPOV)<strong>

The wooden floor is as cold as ice. With a long silk robe wrapped securely over my clothes, I tiptoe to Peeta's room. The door creaks open. On the large bed, I can see Peeta's form slowly rising and falling. Unsure of what to do now, since he's never been asleep before I came in, I cautiously walk a little closer.

There is a pang in my chest when I see his moonlit face. Peeta isn't sleeping. Tears are falling down is pink cheeks and his lip is quivering. What have I done to him? I've broken him. I've broken him so many times that I feel as though I can never reverse my wrongs.

"How can you love someone that has hurt you so deeply?" I whisper.

"I wish I knew," he replies in a frail voice.

I climb onto the other side of the bed, facing his back. Gently, I grab his shoulder and turn him. He doesn't fight against me. I don't think he has enough strength to. His blue eyes that once held such happiness were now hollow, save for the pain. When I brush away his tears and pull my hand away, he stops me. He holds mine to his cheek and lets out a choked sob, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Oh, Peeta," I whisper, pulling him to me.

Like a child, he latches onto me for comfort, putting his head into the crook of my neck. I run my fingers through his soft hair as his body shakes.

"I'm so sorry, Peeta," I murmur gently.

Peeta pulls away and looks at me with watery eyes. Those feelings that I had when we were in the cave and during the reaping suddenly return. They fill my body from head to toe… and, for the first time, I don't try to push them down.

When my lips meet the pain that has made tracks down his face I can hear him take in a sharp breath. But I continue to kiss away the tears that I've cause. They are sweetly salty. My mouth reaches his. The soft tenderness of his lips make my heart ache for more. At the moment, this is all want.

Slowly, Peeta's arms embrace me as he runs his tongue along my bottom lip. I can feel his heart pounding against mine. Beating in perfect synchronization. His hands slide the dark, silk robe off of my shoulders and he nips at my neck. Against my thigh, I can feel him swelling. Running his hands up my sides, Peeta stops at my ribs.

Sitting up, I shiver as Peeta runs two thumbs over my nipples, cupping my breasts. His warm fingers hook under the hem of my thin, yellow shirt and he pulls it away, revealing my pale skin. Insecurely, I colour and try to cover myself, but he stops me.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers and lays me on my back.

Hovering over me, he leans down and places his lips over my breast with his fingers massaging the other. He swirls his tongue, nips, and sucks, alternating from one breast to another. Peeta lets out a low moan as I grind my hips up against the bulge that is now visible through his satin pants. With ease Peeta grabs the waist of my silk night shorts and takes them away.

The only remaining piece of fabric on me is the black lace lingerie, but that doesn't last long. Because Peeta's teeth grip the edge and rip them off. He takes in every part of my body with hungry eyes. Pressing his lips on mine he says, "Beautiful."

He kisses a long line down my body, each with a husky, "So beautiful."

When he reaches my legs, Peeta spreads them apart. The warmth of his breath as he lowers his head makes me anxious with anticipation. A moan escapes me as Peeta begins rotating his tongue. His hold on my legs becomes tighter as my moans increase and, when he stops, I want to beg for more.

As he crawls back to me, I can see just how hard he has become. The wetness between my legs increases at the sight and I can't help myself. I want to ravish his body. Pushing Peeta back onto the large bed, straddling him, I tear off his shirt and crush my lips onto his. Moans muffled between our lips, I rub against him.

"Oh, God, Katniss," he groans between kisses.

Bringing myself down to his waist, I remove everything that is blocking my way. Peeta's breathing increases as I place his long thickness into my mouth. I take as much as I can, sucking the tip, bobbing my head up and down, placing it between my breasts, licking the length.

"Feels so good," Peeta breathes, his fingers running through my hair. "Feels so – oh – oh, God – That's it – I'm – I – "

Just as he is about to finish, I feel arms pull me up. Peeta's eyes are glazed with excitement, but he pulls me close to his chest, taking deep breaths. Once we've regulated our hearts, he props himself against headboard with me in his lap. The heat to him against my wet slit is almost unbearable.

Peeta says, "Are you sure you want this?"

"You don't?" I ask, wincing at the whine in my voice.

"Katniss, you have no idea how much I want this. How much I want to feel you on top of me, be inside of you. But I won't do it unless you want it too." his voice is so husky that I can hear how much he is straining to hold himself back.

"Be gentle," I say and that's all it takes.

Peeta lifts me up and rests me against the pillows. Parting my legs with his knees, he places his tip, warm, against me. With one last look at me, he goes in. I'm hit with a painful, stinging sensation. He is so long, so thick, that it hurts more than it normally would, but I know that Peeta is doing all that he can to make me as comfortable as possible.

"Sorry," he whispers each time he goes deeper, taking breaks to help me relax. I can see worry and guilt cross his face with every whimper that I let out. Finally, every bit of Peeta is inside. The pain doesn't leave.

He holds himself still as I, carefully, begin to move and get used to the pain. Now it;s my turn to apologize. With every movement Peeta grunts, sucks in a breath, gasps, groans, and tenses, resisting his temptation. His body begins to shake as the stinging fades away.

"It's okay now, I think." I say. "Just – just go slow."

When I say this, Peeta's arms give out. Staring into my eyes, Peeta slowly pulls his swollen member away, leaving the tip inside. The tenderness he uses makes me want to cry. I never understood how people could cry doing this, but now I get it. Though every part of Peeta is probably screaming at him to go as fast and hard as he can, he doesn't. He fights that urge. . . .for me.

A rebellious tear slips out of my watery eye as Peeta pushes himself back into me. I know he's seen this when his body tenses.

"K-katniss? Are you okay? Do you want me to stop? Am I hurting you that much?" Peeta asks in a voice so pained and worried that I let out a soft laugh only confusing him more.

"You're not hurting me. I'm okay." I reassure him.

"Then, why are you crying?" he says with big eyes.

"Because. . . .because you're being so gentle," when his brows furrow I continue, "It made me realize. . . .I – what I mean to say is. . . .I want this with you. . . .only with you. I want you to be the only one that ever does this to me and. . . .and. . . .I love you."

Peeta's eyes are glistening with fresh tears as I say this. Brushing a thumb over the tears that have fallen, he crashes his lips down. The passion between us seems to whirl around the room. Warm wet drops fall from his face to my cheeks. He drives into bringing a gasp from me.

"Oh, Katniss," he moans, "I love you so much."

It's as though I can't get close enough too him. My hips move wanting more, but it's not enough.

"Faster," I urge. "Harder, Peeta."

Grabbing my waist, Peeta grunts as he pounds himself into me. His mouth latches onto my breast. Shock waves course through me. The way Peeta cries out my name brings me closer each time. My heart is hammering against my chest and I grip the soft linen.

"I'm – Katniss, I," he voice is thick as he speaks. "Can't – Can't hold much – so close."

Peeta's weight rests on me as he tries to slow himself down.

"Keep going," I manage to say. "I want you to – "

"Anything," he whispers.

"Show me that – that I'm really yours – only yours. All of the – love you hold – for me – show me – fill me – with it." I say, scattered.

Peeta does just that. Snaking his arms around my waist, as I wrap mine around his neck, Peeta picks me up and pushes me against the wall. He nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck and plunges into me over and over with muffled moans. It feels so good, him inside me, his hands cupping my thighs, our erratic breathing and flushed faces.

Then, it happens. A rippling wave of ecstasy shoots through me. I cry out Peeta's name against his shoulder as he calls out mine into my neck. Peeta is now holding a fist full of my hair and chanting my name. He pumps heat into me, filling me with his love.

"Peeta," I breathe as he pushes into me one last time. "I love you."

"As I love you, Katniss," he says.


	6. Chapter 7

As many of you know, LovelyUnderland has had many medical issues lately. While LovelyUnderland did promise to update the week she finished treatment, she was unable to. I will not reveal her condition, but she needs your prayers and hope. She's currently in critical condition and her health is being monitored. I am not sure when she will be back to her full health, but she did let me know about this account and she has numerous chapters already written. She hasn't forgotten about any of you, don't worry. Nearly every day she panics because she hasn't uploaded anything. I will upload them for her as soon as possible. Thank you for reading this.

-Chelsea


	7. Chapter 8

Oh, gosh, how long has it been? are you guys still sticking by my side? I think it has literally been over a year since I last logged on here. I want to take a moment to give you guys the reason I was gone for so long because my friend made it sound like I had cancer...which I don't.

So, here it goes. I've suffered from anxiety and depression since I was very young. As I got older my anxiety and depression became worse. I've had times where I'd go into a very dark place and feel like just giving up...but it was never something that I wasn't able to pull myself out of. However, a year, or so, ago my depression became worse than ever before and my anxiety went through the ceiling. I couldn't find that light to bring myself to a well enough state and ask for help. It was like there was absolutely no hope for me. I didn't even enjoy the things that helped me get through my issues . . . writing was no longer enjoyable. I would sit at my computer and jut stare at it because my ideas were drained as was my energy. I isolated myself from the world and just got worse. Finally, I snapped and decided that life wasn't worth it because nothing helped me get better. I gave up.

I was sent to the hospital and my therapy was increased tenfold. It took awhile for me to even want to try to get better. The year was rough...but I had my friends and my family there for me. Eventually, I was able to get back on my feet and find the positive rather than the negative. I'm better now and glad to be typing at my computer again. I will never say that I have fully recovered from depression and anxiety...because I believe that those are things that a person will never fully recover from. We learn to cope through depression and anxiety and everything else. We become stronger. We can recover from self harm and some thoughts, but other things don't just have it all end like that.

I still struggle sometimes. I still get sad. I still have anxiety attacks over simple things. I still have my issues, but I am getting stronger. There was a point where I felt like I would ever be happy again...like things would never get better...but that was because of my issues. Things do get better, but you have to want them to and you have to work at it.

Depression, anxiety, and all the others are serious issues. And to all of my readers...if you ever...EVER feel any type of pain or anxiety...know that I am here. I will always be here for you guys. I know what it's like to want everything to end. I know what it's like to find relief, comfort, feelings, etc..through self harm. I know what it's like to feel worthless and broken, empty and alone. But you will never be alone...I promise. If I am not updating I will try to let you guys know. But if you ever need me you can always message me through my twitter ( TheHorcruxHeart). I love you guys so much.

P.S. the reason my friend didn't upload the last chapters was because when I gave up I deleted everything. So, it looks like I'll have to start over, but don't worry...this story isn't done yet.

~LovelyUnderland


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